Coffee Spoons
by Katty3
Summary: Iruka meets Naruto's new instructor, life slips away in coffee spoons mildly shounenai


Author's Notes: This is the scene that refused to die. I mean it, every time I was like "okay boys, let's wrap this one up" they were like "no we still need you to do this and this and this" and Iruka is such an attention whore anyway and Kakashi doesn't help matters and I'm such a bad writer I get bullied by my characters. *le sigh* Tell me what you think. Oh yeah. Don't ask about the title, either you get it, or you're not an English major. lol  
  
Coffee Spoons By Katty  
  
The student's papers, resting in a neat, square pile on the corner of the desk had, unfortunately, not decided to correct themselves. Iruka scowled briefly, before remembering someone once told him that when he tried to scowl, it only make him look like he was pouting. He glanced at the clock, and then groaned as he trudged towards the desk. But he decided, as he sat down with a wistful smile on his face, that the celebratory ramen with Naruto had been worth every second, as well as every second helping.  
  
The blonde had dashed into his classroom, empty because of a half-day, when Iruka had sat down to correct papers, just before one o'clock. The short blur of orange landed a perfectly executed flying bear-hug, tipping the chair over and sending them both sprawling on the floor of the classroom. Iruka chuckled at the memory, how Naruto had been absolutely bouncing with excitement, how, without so much as a please, he'd dragged an unresisting Iruka for ramen, how he'd gone on and on about how cool his new teacher was, which made Iruka frown a bit. But most of all Iruka remembered how Naruto had looked up at him, face beaming with sincere, uncomplicated pride in what he had accomplished, and how Iruka had grinned wide right back at him, positive his face was as bright as Naruto's.  
  
He sighed, and threw one more, long look at the papers, just double checking, making absolutely sure they weren't corrected, before he sat down with a red pen and the top paper.  
  
Circle...check...circle...circle...check...check...check...che...  
  
Iruka closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger sighing in frustration. He then flipped through the rest of the papers, scanning them, before realizing that this was about as good as it got. He leaned way back in his chair and studied the blank ceiling, hoping desperately that it could offer up the answers. Iruka frowned; it was always like this when he got a new batch of students, apart from a few notable exceptions, they always seemed to come to him knowing less then nothing and it always took a frustratingly long time to get anything to sink in. And they never were the least bit motivated to do anything, no matter how much he stressed the lesson's importance. It made a guy wonder what in the world he was doing wrong.  
  
He frowned again, no, that wasn't really fair to himself, he was doing all he could, but sometimes Iruka felt as though he weren't making any difference at all. It was all so very frustrating. What he was teaching would keep these children alive, he took his job very seriously, and thought everyone else should as well. None of this those who can, can; those who can't, teach, bullsh...  
  
Iruka well knew that what wasn't remembered quickly and without hesitation on a paper test in the safety of a classroom, would be forgotten rapidly in the heat of a battle. And what with the falling standards of completion at the Ninja Academy, not to mention the pressure he continually received from above to crank out more students. 'Make sure you teach them everything they need to pass the written test, don't make the practical too hard, try to pass everyone so it won't reflect on you as a teacher, and, oh yeah, make sure they know enough to have at least a decent chance of survival.' Iruka sometimes wondered if this village really had it's priorities straight.  
  
But as he thought back to the most recent batch of graduates, he smiled warmly. They really were a great bunch of kids. The nine official graduates stood out in his mind, and he thought about how much they had grown, not only as shinobi, but as people, in the time he had taught them. Then he considered how much more they had to learn, how they were going to learn some of those very difficult lessons, and how blindingly fast it would make them grow up.  
  
Iruka was walking towards the office before he even realized he was moving, but he continued nonetheless, papers couldn't be corrected in this state of mind anyway.  
  
The filing cabinet made a terrible racket in the otherwise silent building. Iruka could only assume the other instructors had taken advantage of the half day to get their work done, and were now, he glanced at the clock, at home enjoying supper. He grabbed three folders from the cabinet and slammed the loud metal shut, then moved to the adjoining teacher's lounge and plopped down in the functional, but distasteful, lime green sofa. Iruka opened the first folder and by the weak, late afternoon sunshine, coming in the windows, one behind him and one far off to his right, began to read.  
  
Uchiha Sasuke, this year's top graduate, orphan of the Uchiha clan massacre, and number one anti-social student. Iruka sighed, remembering him in class, never contributing or visiting with the other students, and at student conferences, just sitting there waiting for his teacher to be done talking so he could leave. Iruka just wasn't very good with that sort of person, but he certainly couldn't fault him his grades, worthy of the number one rookie position, certainly, and then some. But he had a long hard journey ahead of him, all shinobi do, and Iruka couldn't help but spare a moment of concern, despite the fact he was clearly the most ready of the rookie nine.  
  
Iruka reassembled the papers in Sasuke's folder and set it aside, then opened and sorted through the next folder. Haruno Sakura, Iruka looked at her paper marks, and let out an involuntary whistle of admiration, of course he had given her those marks himself, but still...it wasn't everyday you saw marks that good. She had been such an eager student, too, always doing some sort of studying outside of class, and coming to him when she had problems or wanted something explained in more detail; and Iruka wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd been occasionally hard pressed to give her satisfactory answers. She really was a bright student, but more importantly she worked hard. Iruka hoped she would at least consider becoming a teacher herself, but to teach at the Ninja Academy one was required to reach Chunin level. Iruka frowned and looked at her practical field scores and winced, not terrible, but she lacked stamina and the drive she seemed to have about book studies. Easy to see, really, how despite such high written scores she managed to fall dead middle in the class ranking. Iruka paused a moment to ask gods he wasn't sure he believed in to keep her safe, before he set her folder aside.  
  
Iruka picked up the last folder, grinning before he even opened it. He'd long ago memorized everything in Naruto's folder; every score, every official reprimand, and there were a lot, and even every occasional letter of praise. Of course, anything good about Naruto had been written up by Iruka himself, but he didn't falsely flatter. Naruto deserved every good thing that Iruka had to say about him, the boy likely didn't even know they were in here, so flattery of the hyper blond was impossible. Iruka frowned as he though about how many times those letters had been Naruto's only defense against permanent suspension from the Ninja Academy. There were a lot of people who really had it in for Naruto, through no fault of his own, then Iruka though about some of Naruto's recent pranks...so maybe partially his fault.  
  
He set aside the folder, and once again leaned back hoping this ceiling would be more helpful then the one in the classroom. Iruka sighed, no dice. The utter blankness of the ceiling reminded him of Kakashi- sensei's record book. He'd been worried about what the Jounin instructor would do when he found Naruto on the team; Iruka certainly hadn't expected the man who never passes anyone to pass him, of all people. It was no secret most of the village hated Naruto, but apparently Kakashi-sensei wasn't most of the village.  
  
Iruka considered the Jounin instructor he had never met, while he studied the ceiling. Of course, he'd heard of Kakashi-sensei, there wasn't a ninja in the village who hadn't, but that was just what other people said. They said he was mysterious, but kind; a bit pervy, Iruka blushed at memory of some of the accounts, not that he put much stock in rumors; very skilled, but with the title Jounin that was a given, and, according to Naruto, he was apparently the coolest thing since ramen, but that was ent...  
  
Suddenly, Iruka caught movement out of the corner of his eye jumped up and turned to face the window quickly, every muscle twitching quickly in surprise.  
  
Kakashi-sensei was also apparently not above letting himself in.  
  
"Yo," the Jounin's visible eye curved upward in good humor, as he held up his right hand, palm forward; more in supplication then greeting, really. Iruka breathed a sigh of relief. Something in the way Kakashi stood, however, the way his hip cocked so casually and how he leaned slightly to the left, indicated that he had had the opportunity to make himself quite comfortable before Iruka had even noticed his presence.  
  
"You startled me," Iruka admitted sheepishly, moving his hand away from his kunai holster he hadn't even realized he was going for. "Kakashi- sensei, I presume." Iruka straightened himself and walked over to the Jounin instructor, sounding only mildly flustered as he continued his greeting, reaching out with one hand, and gesturing to himself with the other. "Iruka, nice to have met you," he enunciated with care and practice, hoping a formal introduction would erase some of the embarrassment at having been caught too completely unaware.  
  
Kakashi extended his hand to clasp the other instructor's in a firm grip, releasing quickly. "Likewise, but no need to be so formal, certainly no need to call me sensei." An appealing blush of embarrassment spread across the Chunin's face, following that intriguing scar across the bridge of his nose. Kakashi felt the smile beneath his mask grow into something a little more genuine.  
  
"Certainly, Kakashi-san, I thought that..." Iruka halted his words when Kakashi raised his hand to pause the flow of the conversation.  
  
"Just Kakashi is fine," Iruka flushed a previously unexplored shade of crimson, but Kakashi simply continued to smile good-naturedly, eye curving upward in mirth. "I hope I may call you Iruka," he intoned politely, imitating Iruka's tone in a light tease.  
  
"Huh?" started the Chunin, not entirely sure of his ears, clearly out of sorts at the presence of the odd shinobi, his face was getting very warm. "A...ahh," he stammered in confirmation, having finally understood the question posed him. He smiled, but looked away shyly, rubbing the back of his head, "To tell you the truth I've always preferred being Iruka." He gave a short nervous laugh, which slowly morphed into something more genuine when Kakashi joined with a chuckle of his own.  
  
"I understand completely," the Jounin replied.  
  
"Ah...could I make you some tea?" asked Iruka, rather cordially, very blatantly trying to steer this conversation back onto more comfortable, less familiar, grounds. "Or there's coffee in the pot if you'd rather, I'm sure it's..." a glance confirmed the red light to be dark and unlit, "ice cold now, but it heats up really quickly." He beat a quick trail over to the coffee pot, without even waiting for his guest to answer, like a gracious hostess caught unprepared by company that comes early. Kakashi chucked, Iruka would definitely scowl at that.  
  
"Coffee'd be wonderful right about now," Kakashi's visible eye curled in amusement. Responding with standard rhetoric would let the young man a moment to catch his balance. "If you're certain it won't be any trouble," the Jounin added in an oversweet tone as he heard the click of the on switch.  
  
"No," Iruka began absently, "no trouble at..." he turned back and stopped mid-line at Kakashi's face frozen in a comic fake grin visible even through his mask, registering what had just been said. The Chunin crossed his arms over his chest, and fell back against the counter with at little thump, "You're making fun of me, aren't you?" The words were accusatory, but he was grinning and his shoulders were slumped a bit forward, finally relaxed.  
  
"No! No, of course not!" the Jounin flailed his arms out in front of him, palms facing out, in a gesture far too exaggerated to be meant as anything but laughable. "I would never," he continued, "never would I..." Iruka glared at him, the same look he would give out to petulant schoolchildren, Kakashi dropped his arms, "okay, well, so maybe I would."  
  
Iruka continued to hold his glare for all of a second and a half, before laughter burst out his lips and pealed out of the lounge and down the halls, bouncing off the walls as it went, filling the quiet building with a sound of life. Kakashi briefly joined in, unable to keep from chuckling at the uproarious laughter.  
  
After a long moment, Iruka managed to get his laughing under control. His breath was still coming a bit fast and his smile was so wide it threatened to split his face, but he managed to gasp out a few words. "Ahh...I really needed that," he sighed, whipping a few tears from the corners his eyes. "I, uh, haven't laughed like that in ages. You're a very funny man, but then, I'm sure people must tell you that all the time." Iruka beamed at the Jounin, eyes closing as he grinned from ear to ear.  
  
Now it was Kakashi's turn scratch the back of his head bashfully, "Actually, most people don't find me all that amusing."  
  
"Really?" Iruka tilted his head in question, "I never would have though that."  
  
Kakashi smiled wide under his mask, "But I have been told I have a unique sense of humor."  
  
The Chunin chucked low in his throat, "Now that I believe," he sighed as a moment of loud silence fell between the two ninja.  
  
Iruka gestured at the tacky sofa, "Why don't you have a seat," successfully ending the lull in conversation before it could become awkward, "There's three folders over on that end table I'm sure you'll want to look at. I'll bring the coffee over to you." Iruka turned and walked toward the pot, "It should be at least passably warm by now."  
  
Kakashi blinked, "That was fast."  
  
"I said it heats up really quickly," the Chunin grinned over his shoulder. He grabbed his own coffee mug and a spare one for guests that looked at least passably clean and filled them with the steaming coffee, then turned to the green sofa.  
  
Kakashi had taken up a comfortable sprawled position on the couch and was flipping through the first folder; Naruto's, Iruka realized with a blush, thinking about his frequent words of praise that liberally colored Naruto's folder. Iruka pushed the anxiety away and set the blue mug down on the end table then went and grabbed a plastic chair from the opposite wall and pulled it over to the sofa. He sat and sipped at his coffee, then turned his attention to the white-haired Jounin, who now held his mug instead of the file.  
  
"What a cute mug," Kakashi teased, noting the pale blue cartoon dolphin amid a swirling sea of dark blue ceramic, "Is it yours?" he prodded, hoping to once again induce that becoming blush. But he was disappointed; Iruka merely nodded and beamed at the Jounin instructor.  
  
"Naruto gave it to me last year." The Chunin took a sip of his own coffee. Kakashi paused for a moment, thinking, then nodded and picked Naruto's folder back up immediately absorbing himself back in the contents. Iruka, for his part, took advantage of the respite from the Jounin's difficult presence to stare unfocused out the window, his borrowed green mug a painfully warm spot against his thigh.  
  
Naruto had been so excruciatingly awkward presenting his gift; eyes darting around looking anywhere but upwards, not understanding at all how this process was supposed to proceed, as he thrust the crumpled looking lump at Iruka.  
  
"I got this for you." The top of the plain, brown paper, twisted violently to hold the wrapping in place, and curved off to the side like the stem of some odd shaped melon. "It's a coffee mug," he added, almost dismissively under his breath.  
  
Iruka had stared for a moment, completely taken aback at the sudden gift appearing before him, before reaching out with both hands and gently cradling the treasured package to his chest, with a soft "thank you" looking down at this foremost gift.  
  
"Well," the normally energetic blonde asked, interrupting Iruka's silent study of the crinkled brown paper. "Aren't you gonna open it?" Naruto asked, tracing circles in the dirt with his foot and tugging at the bottom of his shirt with both hands, as he glanced up frequently from beneath his goggles trying to catch signs of approval in his teacher's face, but not yet ready to meet his gaze.  
  
Iruka smiled down with genuine warmth, "Of course," he replied, digging through the crumpled mess of paper trying to find the mug inside. The rustling of paper continued for several moments, before Iruka spotted a bit of shinny, deep blue, hiding in the brown folds, and pulled the mug free with a flourish.  
  
The little dolphin had looked right back at him, even as Iruka had watched it frozen mid-leap in his little painted sea.  
  
"So, so..." Naruto practically burst with question, "Do you like it? What do you think?" insecurities rushing away like water in his excitement, Naruto looked up at his teacher expectantly. "Isn't it great?"  
  
Iruka looked at the excited boy, then back at the mug, at the little painted dolphin, far too cute for a grown man... "It's prefect."  
  
Naruto's face lit up like a lantern then seemed to explode into motion, jumping up and running around. "Yea~ah! I knew it was perfect." He paused to look right up at Iruka, "I saw it and immediately though of you."  
  
Iruka had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from hitting the idiot over the head or laughing aloud at the boy, he wasn't sure which. "It's the best gift I ever got," he replied with a broad smile, genuinely meaning every word.  
  
"Really?" Naruto asked eagerly, all quivering with suppressed motion.  
  
"Really." And with that one word confirmation Naruto took off, bouncing down the street towards the Ichiraku, while Iruka followed at a much more sedate pace.  
  
"He's really grown in an interesting way."  
  
Iruka's head shot up with an almost audible snap, as words echoing his exact thoughts reached his ears, breaking through his reverie.  
  
"What?" he responded automatically and blushed a bit, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying any attention to you at all," the Chunin squirmed uncomfortably when he realized his rudeness.  
  
"No, no. Don't mind me," Kakashi dismissed easily, looking up from his folder. He smiled, "just thinking aloud." He looked back at the papers in his hands, studying them for a moment, "He really is interesting, though."  
  
"Yes, yes he is," Iruka responded, looking down at his half empty mug. He started as he realized how dark it had become, the sun setting lower, casting the teacher's lounge in a deep golden color. He looked over at the Jounin on the couch, all casual grace in the dying sun, still looking at the folder, but squinting a bit because of the dimness.  
  
"You know," Iruka continued, "you could just take those folders home and read them at you convenience."  
  
Kakashi looked up from his reading, "Are you sure that's alright?"  
  
"Of course," the Chunin beamed, "I can even sign them out for you. It's getting quite late," Iruka spared a though for the school work he still needed to correct, "I'm sure you must be wanting to get home."  
  
"Not really," Kakashi quipped back, "but I'm sure you have things to attend too." Iruka flushed at that. "I'm sorry I kept you so long."  
  
"No, not at ..." but Kakashi was already at the window before Iruka could say any more.  
  
The white-haired shinobi turned back to face the stunned Chunin for a moment, his grin broad and fake. "Thanks for the coffee," and with that the Jounin vanished from sight.  
  
Iruka sat stunned for a long moment, looking at the window. He sighed and pushed back a few errant strands that had decided to fall out of his pony tail as he stood and reached for his dolphin mug.  
  
It was full.  
  
Iruka blinked at it, then looked out the window, like it had the answer, then back to the cup.  
  
Torn between anger and confusion, Iruka settled for laughter that pealed through the halls. 


End file.
